


The Confession

by fanfoolishness (LoonyLupin), LoonyLupin



Series: The Outer Rim [6]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Episode: s01e03 The Sin, Episode: s01e07 The Reckoning, Family Feels, Gen, Mandalorian Culture (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:21:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29119644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLupin/pseuds/fanfoolishness, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLupin/pseuds/LoonyLupin
Summary: Kuiil and Din discuss the Child on the way to Nevarro.  Kuiil believes the Mandalorian has changed.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin & Kuiil
Series: The Outer Rim [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055645
Comments: 10
Kudos: 85
Collections: My favorite Mandalorian fics





	The Confession

The _Razor Crest_ was fast, but the galaxy was vaster. It would take hours before they reached the nearest hyperspace lane. Arvala-7 wasn’t along any of the main hyperspace routes, probably one of the reasons the child had remained hidden there for so long. 

Already that time before he laid eyes on the foundling seemed a distant memory to Din, another life he had once lived before the reforging of his armor and taking the child into his care. A life that grew harder to recognize every day. But that life loomed again now, Greef Karga’s message etching itself deep into his mind.

The journey back to Nevarro stretched on into the time his body told him it was time to sleep. Begrudgingly, Din knew he needed to be at his best to deal with Karga and whatever deal -- or trap -- he had in mind. He sat now on the edge of the rack, watching Kuiil tinker with the child’s new pram. Cara had offered to keep an eye on the IG unit in the cockpit, to Din’s relief. 

The child rested on Din’s lap, leaning against him with his little head nodding towards his chest. Din knew he should try to rest as well. But he felt uneasy, unused to the _Crest_ holding so many, even those he trusted as allies. He watched Kuiil work near the slumbering blurrgs, fighting the exhaustion weighing on his shoulders.

“You have changed, Mandalorian,” Kuiil observed. Light sparked beneath his hands, adjustments in the pram’s electronics.

“A strange thing to say to someone you hardly know,” said Din, though his mouth twitched to one side in something like a smile. Kuiil, it seemed, was the same as ever.

“The measure of a man can be taken over years, or days. It depends on the man,” said Kuiil matter-of-factly. “Your code is clear. Your path was once so, or it seemed. No more.”

The baby shifted against Din, glancing up at him. Absentmindedly Din stroked the child’s ear, and the little one sighed, curling up against his arm. “You’ve got my measure, have you?”

“I thought I had. You came to my planet to retrieve a mighty bounty where others had failed. Your skill and determination won the day. You left to claim what was rightfully yours.” Kuiil regarded him with a thoughtful gaze. “Then you reappear on my humble farm, gleaming bright in new beskar, the child at your side. You seek no rewards other than the child’s safety. You have changed.”

Din swallowed. The child’s weight in his lap felt far heavier than the drowsiness trying to claim him. “I took the reward.”

“The beskar.” Kuiil nodded. “It was promised to you.”

“But I --” His mouth was dry. He tried, failed, to pull knotted thoughts into words. Thoughts he had been avoiding, weighted by a shame uncoiling within the pit of his belly. He had hoped to not revisit that moment, and yet now that it was here, the confrontation was something of a shivering relief. 

He hesitated, then spoke. His words felt clumsy, pressed out between lips and tongue. “The Creed demands that all beskar be returned to my people. And it demands we keep our promises. I could do both, by accepting their reward.” His stomach clenched.

“So I gave the child to the Imps _willingly_ , and I thought I had followed the Creed.” His voice dropped into a whisper, and a fear came upon him that the child might understand what he had said, what he had done. _I’m so sorry --_ He risked a glance into his lap and was grateful to see the child fast asleep.

“Why is it with you now?” asked Kuiil. “Why is it not spirited away to the gene farms or the laboratory, or other fates worse than these?”

“I made a terrible mistake,” Din bit out. “The Creed also demands that Mandalorians protect foundlings.”

“The stories once sang of this devotion,” said Kuiil. “But myths are easily forgotten, even by those in them.”

“He’s just a _child_. I couldn’t --” His arm curled tighter, bringing the child closer to him. He smoothed the kid’s robes, flattening wrinkles in the thick cloth with his fingertips. The kid slept contentedly with a small smile on his upturned face. 

Din looked down at the calm expression the kid wore, his chest tightening. It hurt, in a good way.

“I went back for him. Killed those who were imprisoning him. But other bounty hunters tried to stop us; my tribe came to our aid, and we escaped.” He let out a long breath. “This deal we’re headed to -- this might be a chance for him to escape the hunters for good. I owe that much to him.”

Kuiil gave him a smile, fitting new components into place in the pram. “This is why you have changed. Your Creed speaks to you in new ways. It shines through you, like a memory of Mandalore of old.” He added a soft blanket to the pram, then folded his arms, apparently satisfied with his work. He floated the pram to Din and the child, and Din carefully laid the baby down within its confines, noting the much better fit. The baby sighed and slept on, safe and warm with Din’s hand resting gently against his chest.

Kuiil looked pleased. “It will protect the child, as I and my droid will. As you do.” He began to pack away his tools, handling each carefully. “I have spoken.”

“Kuiil,” said Din. He raised his head from where he had been watching the child rest. “I know you won’t accept payment for your help. But please accept my gratitude.”

“This I shall,” said Kuiil. “Rest now. The child will need you.”

Din nodded. “Thank you again.” He drew the child’s pram into the small sleeping space, then laid himself down on the narrow rack, curling up to fit. He finally withdrew his hand from the kid’s pram. 

The _Razor Crest_ hummed her flightsong through the walls, and faint above it, he could hear the child’s sleeping breaths. He let himself fall into a sleep of his own, hope stirring with him. Tomorrow was a new day, one that brought a chance for the child’s freedom. 

He would gladly pay any price that it demanded.

**Author's Note:**

> I miss Kuiil :( And I thought it would be nice for Din to voice some of his guilt out loud to someone who wouldn't judge him.


End file.
